Candidates from every nation packed the academy's main hall.
Gaara from the Sand, Suigetsu from the Mist, local Leaf genin like Naruto and Sasuke, and player examinees like Utaha Kasumigaoka, Yukino, and Airi Akizuki filled the rows in a sea of headbands.
Ibiki Morino's bark signaled the start of the first exam.
With their squads occupied, the jonin instructors found themselves with rare downtime. Some gathered to socialize, others trained.
Makoto carried a bouquet of flowers through Konohagakure's quiet backstreets, making his way to the secluded cemetery tucked into a forgotten corner of the village.
Headstones stood in neat rows.
He stopped before one, crouched, and leaned the flowers against the stone.
Rin Nohara.
Three characters etched into weathered rock.
He sat cross-legged before the grave, staring at the name, perfectly still.
Wind swept through the cemetery, rustling the grass.
He sat like that for a long time, somewhere between meditation and ambush.
Footsteps behind him. Then a voice, pitched into theatrical goofiness: "Well, well! Fancy running into you here, Nishikado! What a coincidence!"
The corner of Makoto's mouth curled. He didn't turn around.
The simp had arrived. Right on schedule.
He'd known Obito would come here the moment he set foot in the Leaf. The man couldn't help himself. Everyone knew why.
"Mr. Tobi," Makoto said, his back still turned, tone casual. "What brings you to Konoha's cemetery?"
Obito held the act. "Oh, I was just passing by! Saw you sitting here and got curious, that's all!"
His gaze drifted over Makoto's shoulder to the headstone.
The instant the name Nohara Rin registered, the Sharingan behind his mask contracted involuntarily.
A few seconds later, the clownish voice returned. "Rin Nohara? Never heard that name before. A friend of yours?"
Quite the performance.
Makoto suppressed his amusement and answered evenly. "No. She was Kakashi-senpai's girlfriend."
"...!"
Obito's pupil shrank to a pinpoint.
"That's impossible!"
The words were out before he could stop them. He caught himself and scrambled to recover, forcing a laugh. "I-I mean, that doesn't sound right? I've never heard anything about Hatake Kakashi having a girlfriend..."
Watching him fumble through the save, Makoto nearly broke character.
The shinobi world's greatest simp, living up to every ounce of his reputation. One mention of her name and the mask might as well have been made of glass.
This was exactly why Makoto had come here today. To wait.
"I've heard the story of Kakashi-senpai and Rin Nohara," he said, letting wistfulness seep into his voice at precisely the right dosage. "It's moving, really. If she'd lived, their kids would be old enough to run errands by now."
He tracked the figure behind him with his peripheral vision.
Obito's fingers had curled into fists at his sides.
Beneath the black bodysuit, his frame trembled, almost imperceptibly.
Time to pour on the gasoline.
"What a shame." Makoto sighed. "With Kakashi-senpai's reputation as 'Kakashi of the Sharingan,' he could easily become the Fifth Hokage someday. Rin Nohara would've been the Hokage's wife. The two of them... the envy of the entire shinobi world, I imagine."
"Kakashi doesn't have what it takes."
The voice behind him dropped all pretense. The comedic lilt vanished like it had never existed.
"He can't even use the Sharingan to its full potential."
Makoto smiled to himself.
Hooked.
He turned with a look of innocent curiosity. "Oh? You seem to know quite a bit about the Sharingan, Mr. Tobi."
Obito froze, realizing what he'd let slip. Behind the mask, his expression locked up.
A slow breath. He forced the storm of emotion back down.
This kid is dangerous.
Better to retreat.
"Nishikado, I just remembered I have something to..."
"The Sharingan. I've always wanted one."
Makoto cut him off, unhurried.
Obito went still.
"Unfortunately," Makoto continued, "the only Sharingan left in the entire Leaf belong to Kakashi-senpai and Sasuke. If I wanted one, I'd have to go through one of them."
What is this kid playing at?
Obito's pulse spiked.
Then Makoto turned to face him, wearing a smile that wasn't quite a smile.
"Mr. Tobi." Those eyes seemed to bore straight through the mask. "Don't you think the Sharingan is wasted on Sasuke? He should give it to me instead."
Even Obito's composure cracked.
This kid... is he planning to steal Uchiha Sasuke's Sharingan?
But why would he share that with an outsider? A supposed Mist ninja, no less.
Unless he knew.
The thought struck like lightning. Behind the mask, Obito's pupils contracted again.
He drew a steadying breath and clung to the surface calm by his fingernails.
"I-I'm just a Mist ninja, I don't understand any of this..." He forced the silly voice back, but the stiffness was palpable. "Why are you telling me all this, Nishikado?"
Makoto smiled and rose to his feet.
"No reason. I just felt a connection with you, Mr. Tobi. Couldn't help chatting a little longer."
He walked past Obito, steps light and easy.
"Well then, I'll be on my way."
Obito turned and watched the retreating figure, his expression unreadable.
He'd manipulated Nagato, the current leader of the Akatsuki, until the man danced on strings without ever noticing. But this teenager...
He couldn't read him.
He truly couldn't.
After a long silence, the ground at his feet shifted. A pitcher plant pushed up through the earth, its leaves parting to reveal a face split down the middle, one half white, the other black.
"What's that kid trying to do?" White Zetsu asked, bewildered.
Black Zetsu's brow furrowed. He said nothing.
Even as the mastermind who had pulled the strings of the ninja world for a thousand years, he couldn't parse Makoto Nishikado's logic either
Wanting to steal a Sharingan wasn't strange in itself.
But announcing it out loud? To a foreign ninja?
Obito stood silent for a long time.
"Tell Itachi."
His voice was low. Every trace of the fool had been scraped away.
He didn't know what Makoto was planning. But he knew one thing: Uchiha Itachi would not let a threat to Sasuke's eyes go unanswered.
Four years ago, on the Night of the Massacre, Itachi had almost come to blows with him, convinced Obito had taken his father's eyes.
Obito still felt the injustice of that. He'd harvested plenty of Sharingan that night, sure, but Uchiha Fugaku's weren't among them.
Stranger still, according to Itachi, someone disguised as Kakashi had lured both Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo away from the village that same evening.
That detail had stopped Obito cold at the time.
There was another player on the board?
This infiltration under his Mist jonin cover served two purposes: observe the prodigy who'd learned the Flying Thunder God, and investigate what had really happened four years ago.
A Mangekyou Sharingan in unknown hands was a threat he couldn't ignore.
He hadn't suspected Makoto, though. Four years ago, the kid had been eight. And his eyes were normal.
A non-Uchiha who'd transplanted a Sharingan couldn't deactivate it, as Kakashi's perpetually active eye proved.
Makoto's eyes were natural. That ruled him out.
But regardless, the incident had only deepened that Itachi's suspicion.
Keeping Itachi close had grown too dangerous. To say nothing of Kotoamatsukami, a thorn lodged permanently in Obito's mind.
So then... why not use this opportunity to remove him?
A genius who'd mastered the Flying Thunder God and an improved Rasengan should give Uchiha Itachi more than he could handle.
All Obito had to do was sit back and collect the spoils.
What he didn't know was that Makoto wanted him to send the Clan Killer.
How else was he supposed to obtain the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan before this instance ended?
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*The Bonus Chapter*